


Dream You Into My Space

by TerrifiedAristocrat



Series: Ardant Worship [2]
Category: AFK Arena (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Body Worship, Choking, Dirty Talk, Library Sex, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2019-09-03
Packaged: 2020-10-06 03:36:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20500214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TerrifiedAristocrat/pseuds/TerrifiedAristocrat
Summary: Through dreams and visions, Niru is pulled. A lesser man would resist, but why resist the inevitable?





	Dream You Into My Space

As Niru approached his destination, he knew he shouldn't be there. Something blared in the back of his head, a mockingjay puffed up, angry, and mangling the last bits of Niru’s sane nerves. He could taste the beginnings of a migraine on the back of his tongue and grit his teeth, trying to will the pounding in his skull to fade. Niru squinted at the overgrown branches, each one seeming to both thrive and rot at the same time and sighed, shaking his head with a smile. This was the place, he knew it.

Quick flicks of his wrist dispatched the rotten vines, revealing a neglected, nondescript slab of stone. Niru traced thin fingers over the surface, dredging up greasy dust and brushing it off briskly. He closed his eyes for a moment, searching his brain for scraps of dreams, ideas and images that had been screamed into his optic nerves for the past month while he tried to sleep. The answers to an unspoken question floated behind Niru’s teeth and made their way to his fingertips, pressing into indentations in the slab in a quick pattern that caused a split to run down its middle, allowing Niru to open it. A blast of dusty dry air hit Niru’s face, assaulting him with the rich scent of books. Niru grinned softly and grabbed his scythe, using it to help navigate the steep stairwell leading to, if Niru’s feverish dreams could be believed, the Masoleum’s secret library.

The door swung shut behind Niru, leaving him in darkness. After a second, green flames ignited from sconces along the walls, revealing a long hallway. Niru walked along it silently, unsure as to whether or not he would receive trouble for this. King Thoran complained about the Eldritch Council enough for Niru to get an idea as to their purpose, and from what he gleaned, they were the only ones who knew of this place. Explaining himself to them may be difficult- how would one justify it? By telling them that Lord Quaedam himself gave Niru instructions on how to enter the crown jewel of the Graveborn empire? Niru shook his head, coming to another door and carefully easing it open. For some reason, he had a feeling that things would work out. If nothing else, he had a scythe that was a useful tool in persuasion.

The next room was filled with books. Books and scrolls lined maze-like walls, too many to count. Niru felt almost dizzy as he tried to soak in all the details around- dusty armor, artifacts tucked neatly in glass caskets, bones left on display with pinpricks of green in their eye sockets, books with arcane words etched in their spines Niru only vaguely recognized. He stepped in carefully and began to wander the bookshelves silently, eyes open as wide as they would go as he took in all the details. He wanted to start grabbing books and just dig in but he refrained, waiting for the perfect book to cross his vision. Deeper into the library Niru traveled, pulled along by some need he felt pulsing behind his eyes. He found himself standing before a large desk in the heart of the maze of books his dreams lead him to. A stack of books sat neatly on the desk, the top one bearing a title that drew Niru’s interest- _“The Anatomy of The Soul”_. He carefully liberated the book from the top of its stack, sat on the backless stool in front of the desk, and began reading.

Niru didn’t know how much time passed. He felt no hunger, thirst or other human needs, which made researching a whole lot easier than it was when he was human and alive. He was so engrossed in his reading that Niru didn’t hear someone else walk into the room until he felt the soft rasp of fingertips along his spine, stroking each vertebrate slowly. Something in that touch dragged at Niru’s soul, as if little bits of himself were smeared from one vertebrate to the next. He tried to act like it didn’t affect him, but once those fingers traced the rope scars that lingered from Niru’s death under his chin, he shuddered into the touch, his breath catching.

“You have my attention,” he whispered to his Lord Quaedam, whose presence Niru could feel thrumming in his bones. Ordinarily being before the Lord of Fear was a truly religious experience, but with the teasing along his spine Niru found himself excited in a different way.

“You came,” Quaedam commented, resting one hand on Niru’s shoulder and keeping another one touching Niru’s scars, running fingerpads across the sensitive skin and sending jolts of electricity across Niru’s skin

“Of course I did,” Niru told Quaedam, closing his eyes and tipping his head back a little in what could have been perceived as a submissive motion. Quaedam rewarded the action by applying some more pressure along Niru’s throat, just a hair away from choking him. The thought made Niru shiver again. “I’ll always come when you ask me to,”

“Will you?” Quaedam asked. Niru picked up the hand resting on his shoulder and gazed down at the brilliant green eye in its palm, planting a soft kiss on the heel of his lord’s palm as an answer.

“I will,” he replied against the skin, enjoying the buzz along his lips like the electricity in the air before a lightning strike. “How could I reject the gifts you’ve given me?” Niru kissed further along Quaedam’s wrist, where a pulse-point would be if he had one. Niru’s own pulse was alive and thrumming painfully in his throat. “How could I reject the visions you’ve shown me?” he kissed Quaedam’s wrist again, wondering faintly if he was pushing it. Quaedam was very still, and the buzzing in his skin seemed to be louder than earlier, more intense.

Niru found himself lifted, an odd sensation since he had a hand loosely around his throat and another in his hands. Lord Quaedam had a surplus of limbs, it seemed, and used as many of them as he could to position Niru sitting on the desk. One hand moved to tip Niru’s chin up, forcing him to gaze upon the visage of his Lord of Fear, demurely veiled with the multitudes of green eyes on his chest staring up at Niru. Another hand traced down Niru’s chest, resting at his waistband and leaving trails of fire across Niru’s skin. The hand around his throat stayed put, loosely, reminding Niru that he was not in control of this situation. The fingers under Niru’s chin slipped up to trace along Niru’s lower lip, which he parted obediently.

“Such a clever tongue you have,” Quaedam remarked finally, dragging other fingers along Niru’s throat across his scars, drawing a shuddering gasp from Niru. “A lovely voice as well. How will you sing for me, I wonder?”

The hand at Niru’s waistband curled, icy fingers brushing across heated skin and tugging. Niru lifted his hips to assist, swallowing an embarrassing whimper that nearly escaped his lips despite what Quaedam just said- he was in a library, and libraries were to be quiet. Quaedam chuckled, amusement wrapping around Niru like a thick fur as more hands smoothed down his newly exposed skin. Niru couldn’t watch- a hand gripped his chin and kept his gaze up at Quaedam, more effective than a blindfold. The many eyes of his lord were distracting, but not as distracting as cold hands nudging his thighs apart, ghosting over his hardening cock and palming his hips. Niru squirmed a bit, his face heating up in a way he didn’t realize he could still do now that he was dead. Quaedam traced a fingernail down the inside of Niru’s thigh, drawing a soft groan from Niru’s lips. That hand gripped just above Niru’s knee and spread it further as another finger, this time cool and oddly slick, began to probe at Niru’s entrance. He tensed habitually, having to take low and deep breaths to remind himself to relax. Quaedam let out a low rumble, thick with approval, that Niru felt shuddering in his bones.

Niru was doing pretty good at being quiet (It was a bit of a game now) until Quaedam crooked his finger just so and Niru let out a shuddering whimper, his back arching. He resisted the urge to whine again when Quaedam pulled his finger away, only to slowly work a second one inside Niru. Soon Niru was rocking back into his lord’s fingers harshly, trying to chase any scrap of sensation he could receive. The rest of him was held in place almost completely by Quaedam’s other hands and even if it wasn’t, the gaze Quadeam held Niru in was commanding and piercing. Quaedam’s fingers softly rubbed at something below Niru’s skin, under his consciousness, bringing back that odd smearing feeling he’d had earlier. Niru’s breath came out in soft pants as Quaedam kneaded at what Niru could only guess was his very soul, pushing and pressing pleasantly while his fingers fucked Niru’s body open. The hand around Niru’s throat tightened and a third finger worked in, a stream of half-formed pleas and cries for more spilling out of Niru’s lips.

Quaedam proved to be a merciful tyrant, pushing Niru gently back onto the desk and pulling out his fingers. Niru’s headdress clattered off of his head and Niru found himself not caring, laying panting on the desk with his legs spread and trembling. Quaedam loomed over Niru, silver hair spilling over charcoal skin interspersed with glowing green eyes. Niru’s skin buzzed with the lack of sensation as he squirmed under his lord’s gaze. Quaedam held that gaze as he undid his skirt, revealing a nest of squirming tentacles blacker than night, slick and shiny in the faint candlelight. Quaedam stepped closer, grabbing Niru’s hips in a bruisingly tight grip as he pulled Niru close. Niru felt cool slickness work into him as Quaedam put his hands on Niru’s soul again, this time pushing his fingers inside of him, bringing a bone-numbing coldness that made everything else feel feverishly hot in comparison. Niru cried out as Quaedam fucked him open, his appendage squirming inside Niru in a way he’d never felt before but enjoyed immensely. The coldness around Niru constricted, wrapping him in solid certainty and divine terror that blended with the white hot lust pooling in Niru’s gut into something exotic and electric, a strange wine on his tongue, a new school of thought to study, standing on the edge of a cliff with one foot already dancing with gravity’s sweet pull.   
“Hungry,” Quaedam cooed softly, some of his auxiliary tentacles lapping up the sides and base of Niru’s cock. “You’re so hungry for me, my little scientist,”

“Yes,” Niru hissed out, his eyes watering and squeezing shut as he focused on each sensation his lord gifted him with, unable to do anything but moan. Quaedam squeezed tighter and tighter, fucking Niru mercilessly.

“Will you come for me?” Quaedam intoned, a chant or incantation rather than an order.

“_Yes!_” Niru gasped, the combination of sensations made Niru’s head slam back onto the desk, his vision whiting out and his body arcing as he came.

The rhythmic squeezing of Niru’s soul didn’t stop after he came, but he rode out his orgasm through the feeling like fingers in his mouth and cotton in his ears. If Niru could see anything, he couldn’t perceive it, all he saw was his lord Quaedam and his beautiful eyes, each one watching Niru sharply as he quivered and shook. Time stammered and clicked. Niru felt something like lips brush against his forehead, but he could have been dreaming.

When Niru’s head cleared, he was dressed and in pristine condition, sprawled on the desk with the book he’d been reading resting on his chest and the most satisfying ache in his body. Niru heard voices and froze.

“With all due respect my lord, on the desk? Really?” the voice sounded low and rumbly and somewhat disgruntled. Niru sat up slowly to avoid hypotension and set the book he’d been reading aside, gently hopping off of the desk. He almost missed the soft chuckling of Quaedam in response as he hurried to leave the library before someone found him and got really disgruntled.

Besides, he now had to find his way out. 


End file.
